


Booties

by dirtydeedsdonedirtcheap



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Community: HPFT, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-12
Updated: 2016-08-12
Packaged: 2018-08-08 09:39:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7752553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dirtydeedsdonedirtcheap/pseuds/dirtydeedsdonedirtcheap
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ron Weasley has interesting ideas to tell his wife he wants to have a baby.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Booties

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Anything you recognize belongs to J.K. Rowing, the creator of Harry Potter. Anything you don’t recognize belongs to me.

** Reasons Why: ** **You Should Have My Baby**

It was a normal quiet Sunday. You know the Sunday’s where you lounge around in comfortable chairs with a steaming cup of tea or a nice chilled bowl of ice cream with every topping you can imagine.

 

“Come on!”

 

“No!”

 

“But all she needs are some reasons _why_.”

 

“What’s wrong with this family! I said _no_!”

 

Well, as normal and quiet as it could be in Ron Weasley’s house. There he was, fighting with his best mate Harry Potter, in his bedroom while his wife and sister were downstairs in the kitchen.

 

Ron stomped his foot in anger and crossed his arms against his chest. His blue eyes glared at Harry. In response Harry did the only thing he could think of, he sighed in defeat. He was used to that look, the look that all the Weasley’s seemed to be good at. It always forced him to say yes to whatever idiotic plan they were coming up with.

 

Harry sighed again and shoved his hands through his dark messy hair. His green eyes stared at Ron with confusion and then he spoke.

 

“Fine,” he said quickly, “but if something goes wrong Ginny will murder you and you’ll no longer be James’s godfather.”

 

Ron smirked with satisfaction and uncrossed his arms, leaning over to pat Harry’s disheveled hair. “Of course not! I’ll be dead then. Excellent Harry, thank you,” he shook Harry’s hand forcefully and grinned. “You’re the best brother in-law.”

 

“I’m your only brother-in-law. I want this in writing. Never ask me for anything again.”

 

Ron ignored the last part of Harry’s sentence. He vaguely recalled Harry saying this to him once…twice…before. The first time being when Ron was sick and had forced Harry to make him soup (somehow Ron ended getting attacked by sweets) and there was that other time when…wait, no, _this_ was the second time.

 

He beamed and then pulled out his wand. A piece of frayed parchment zipped in the air towards him. He snatched it and then took a seat on his bed, the crème colored duvet wrinkling under him. He would blame that on Harry later.

 

“Alright then…here’s the plan…”

 

Harry gulped nervously and smacked his hand on his forehead to feel for the familiar lightning bolt scar. No, he wasn’t feeling any pain from it, no flashes of memories of Voldemort who was long dead. His only problem was Ron Weasley who peered over his piece of parchment with a green feathery quill in his hand and was sloppily writing words that Harry could barely make out.

 

A _normal_ Sunday indeed.

 

-x-

 

Ron hummed to himself and walked into the kitchen as nonchalantly as he could. He didn’t say anything as he pushed the white swinging door to the kitchen open. Instead, he paused to take in his surroundings. It was key to take in your surroundings when you were on a mission. That’s what he learned in Auror training anyway.

 

He eyed the redhead that was sitting on a wooden chair at the table that belonged to him and his wife. She was sipping some tea out of Ron’s special mug that read, ‘Hot Stuff,’ and was idly flipping through a magazine. His blue eyes then fell on his wife who had her feet up on the chair next to her and was sitting across from his sister. Her curly brown hair was up in a messy bun and she was doing a crossword, biting the tip of her quill with impatience.

 

That’s as far as his observation went because he didn’t care about anything else in the room (though his stomach grumbled a bit and he wondered what delicious treats were just sitting in his refrigerator, calling out for him).

 

Ron coughed and then he coughed again loudly, forcing the two to stop what they were doing and put their focus on him.

 

“I have an announcement to make,” he said. He nervously clapped his hands together and then pointed his pointer fingers at his wife.

 

“Where’s Harry?” asked Ginny, who, as usual was ignoring her older brother. She stared at him, brow furrowed and waited for a response.

 

Ron waved his hand in the air and then flailed his arms a bit with nervousness.

 

“Around, you know Harry…snooping around…doing things that only Harry Potter can do,” his sister frowned at him and Ron realized he was now sweating. He tugged at the collar of his orange t-shirt and pursed his lips.

 

“What’s the matter Ron?” Hermione asked. She wasn’t really paying attention, her eyes had once again fallen to her crossword.

 

He mumbled something to himself and then he kicked his foot on the white tiled floor, cursing as he somehow stubbed his toe and then as calmly as he could, he said, “I want to have a baby.”

 

He took a sigh of relief as his desire was finally known. Ginny yelped and then clapped her hands to her mouth, unable to properly think of something to say. Hermione’s brown eyes popped open in shock and she dropped her quill, letting it fall to the floor (for once she didn’t groan about ink stains) and collapsed in her chair like she had just run a marathon. Her mouth fell open and she stared at her red haired husband unable to form a proper sentence.

 

Ron swayed, uncomfortable under their gaze and brought his orange shirt to his nose, sniffing himself. He was sure he had showered and wondered why they were giving him such odd looks.

 

Finally, Hermione was able to compose herself (after much hair patting and blubbering of her lips). “A baby?” she questioned, eyes still open wide. “A baby is a _big_ responsibility Ron. Now is not the proper time to discuss this. You’re making Ginny uncomfortable.”

 

The couple stared at Ginny who blushed and then narrowed her eyes at Hermione. “Oh no! Oh no, he’s not. I’m sticking around for this one. This…I can’t wait to tell my Mum.”

 

Ron ignored his sister who was clapping her hands and giggling like a little girl in her chair. “I want to have a baby. Ginny and Harry have one and I want one too,” he said rather childishly.

 

Hermione shook her head at her husband and broke out with laughter. “Ron! We aren’t having a child just because Harry and Ginny have one. They’re a lot of responsibility and…they cost a lot and…” She wanted to add they brought _pain_ to her body but she stopped as Ron’s blue eyes became misty.

 

“But…but I’ll feed it and I’ll play with it,” he argued, “please,” he added as an after thought.

 

Ginny laughed and Hermione eyed her nastily. She shook her head at her husband and bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself from laughing. “Ron! It’s a child _not_ a puppy,” he huffed at her condescending tone, “you don’t just feed it and play with it. Are you going to get bored with it after?”

 

Hermione planted her feet on the floor and then reached for her fallen quill. She thought that the conversation would now be over. Secretly, she wanted to discuss this without Harry and Ginny in her house because then she figured he would come up with some concrete reasons _why_ but she shrieked, dropped her quill again as Ron peered under the table and eyed her. She hit her head under the table and rubbed it with a scowl on her face.

 

“But we’ll have so much fun. Think of the tiny dresses and the toy brooms. Think of reading Babbity Rabbity…”

 

Hermione grumbled, still massaging her head. “I already read _you_ Babbity Rabbity.” Ginny snorted, her interest in the conversation peaked more than ever.

 

Ron smiled and poked Hermione’s nose with his index finger. “But now you can read it to _two_ people. Or three…seven?” he backed away from her as she glared at him. “I grew up with a big family.”

 

Hermione turned a bright shade of red and threw her arms up with anger. “I’m not a machine Ronald!”

 

He groaned and backed further away from her. He feared that she would start throwing things at him, something he was used to the female population doing to him from time to time. “Of course not,” he said. He nodded his head in agreement and gave her a nervous smile. “You’ll have to have a double set eventually,” he was trying to reassure her (of what, well he didn’t _really_ know), “our very own Fred and George.”

 

Ginny coughed trying to calm herself down from all the laughing she was doing while Hermione jumped out of her chair and nervously scratched her neck.

 

“That’s _not_ going to convince me.”

 

He nodded his head in agreement. First, he thought sadly of his brother Fred and then he smiled at the pranks his twin brothers used to pull together. “Two Percy’s then?” he questioned Hermione who was grinding her teeth together. The thought of _two_ Percy’s made him shudder. “Come on, I’ll let you name them all yourself but I do have suggestions.”

 

Ginny snorted and cut Hermione off before she could speak. “ _Please_ tell us your suggestions,” she begged, “please.”

 

Hermione rolled her eyes and pushed the table towards Ginny who squeaked as it collided with her ribs. “Ron, we’re not—“

 

“I think,” he said with a finger to his chin, “we should go for a theme for our tiny tribe of children. Very classy names of course.”

 

“Of course,” said Ginny. Hermione only groaned, falling back into her chair and rubbing her temples roughly.

 

“Like _Treacle_ and we can call her _Trixie_ for short.”

 

Hermione nervously pulled her hair out of its elastic and then shoved her hands through her unruly hair while Ginny chuckled with glee. “Like the dessert?” she asked, a smile plastered on her face.

 

“Exactly!” he shouted, throwing his arms in the air. “No one will ever forget her name! Ooo, now I’m hungry,” he said, rubbing his stomach. In turn Ginny rubbed her stomach as well, her thoughts lost on treacle tart and other sweets. Both Weasley’s mouths watered which caused Hermione to groan with displeasure.

 

“Ron,” she said as calmly as she could. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes trying to stop herself from raising her voice. “If you would just listen to me. We can talk about this—“

 

Ron was not having it. He hopped on his spot like a bunny and then made a mad dash to the kitchen cabinets. He opened one and blocked the contents of the cabinet from their view, shoving his hands inside. Eagerly, he rummaged through the contents and his hands found what they were looking for.

 

He pulled out a sack of flour.

 

Neither of the women said anything. They watched in wonder as he shuffled around the kitchen, his rubber soles making squeaking sounds as he searched for what he was looking for. He opened drawer after drawer, mumbling to himself and holding the sack of flour under his armpit. He shouted from pain as his free hand rummaged through a drawer, a knife poked him (and then a spoon) and he almost leapt back from shock because he thought he saw a spider scurrying through the cutlery. Finally, after much browsing, he pulled out a thick white string and bent down, placing the sack of flour on the floor.

 

He paused and as an after thought, ‘accioed’ Hermione’s forgotten quill and inkpot, drawing two misshapen eyes on the sack and a lopsided smile. He then tied the string around the sack and nervously looked up at his sister and wife.

 

Ginny cooed and sighed, giving the flour baby googily eyes while Hermione huffed and glowered at her husband.

 

“Ron, that’s a sack of flour.”

 

“No,” he said with some anger, “this is our child. This...is,” he paused, trying to think of a name and then smiled warmly at Hermione once one popped in his head, “this is Heron.”

 

Ginny cooed some more and clapped her hands at the name. “It’s a combination of Ron _and_ Hermione! I love it! Harry was against naming James, ‘Garry’ and that’s actually _normal_.”

 

Both ignored her, Ron eyed Hermione with a bright smile his blue eyes shining as he tugged the rope that held their ‘child’ was on. Hermione on the other hand frowned, her brown eyes cloudy and her mind confused.

 

“Ron, that’s a child not an animal, why do you have a leash on it?”

 

He blinked at her question (and blinked again for good measure). “I’m taking her for a walk.” He thought it was rather obvious and tugged Heron’s leash again.

 

Hermione shook her head and said nothing, which made him tug the string harder. The two yelped as Ron tugged again, his tug was too strong and the sack fell over, sprinkling flour on the white kitchen floor.

 

“You killed our child!” she yelled with horror.

 

Ron turned a bright shade of red and walked in front of the fallen sack with embarrassment. “It was just flour.”

 

Before someone could say anything there was a yell and a tiny redheaded child ran into the kitchen, waving his tiny hands in the air and running into Ron. The child fell to the floor and started to scream, his green eyes bright with fury. He wrapped himself on Ron’s leg, his tears coating his black trousers.

 

Ron gulped and patted the child’s messy red hair and then shot a smile towards his sister who was breathing heavily and had her hands into fist.

 

“What did you do to my husband!” she shrieked. She noticed the green eyes immediately and the lightning bolt scar was a dead giveaway.

 

Ron coughed nervously and tried to shake the toddler off of his leg but he just shouted with glee as if it was a game.

 

“He agreed!” he shouted. “Look,” he rummaged through his trouser pocket and pulled out a wrinkled piece of parchment, waving it at Ginny, “he signed a contract and everything. It’ll wear off after a day…”

 

Ginny snatched the parchment from her brother and grumbled at Harry’s scrawled signature. “Did you seriously have to change his hair to red and how did you even do this? Hermione!” she shouted, whirling around and eyeing her sister-in-law with anger.

 

Hermione bit her lip and guiltily thought back to a few days ago when Ron had asked her if there were any spells to turn an adult into a child.

 

In reality it wasn’t _her_ fault but really Percy Weasley’s who succumbed to peer pressure from his two younger brothers and had stupidly agreed to allow them to create new snack boxes that would alter the height of the consumer. He didn’t know that his brother had _others_ plans whirling around in his head.

 

Ron whistled innocently and then shrugged his shoulders. “I wanted to show you the full effect. Look Hermione, he has your real teeth,” he forced his fingers into Harry’s mouth and revealed the boys buck teeth. “Come on little Harry, let’s show Hermie what a good Daddy I’ll be.” He scooped up the boy and placed him on his shoulders, making a monkey sound.

 

Hermione couldn’t help but smile warmly at her husband, her heart swelled in her chest and she sighed with content. When her husband wanted to get his point across he did, it might have been unconventional but she appreciated it.

 

“Ron, I—“

 

He put his hand up to silence her as Harry tugged on his hair. “One day Hermione…just let me show you…give me one day with this little guy and then you can decide if you want to have children with me or not.”

 

“Ron, I—“ She tried to speak again, to tell him that she had decided long _before_ today. It was Ginny that cut her off this time.

 

“ _RONALD WEASLEY!_ she hollered. “ _TURN MY HUSBAND BACK NOW!_ ”

 

He glared at his sister’s tiny furious body and foolishly stuck his tongue out at her. “Oi! I don’t want to hear from you Miss. I’ve-Got-a-Son. Just skedaddle on out of here. I’ll take care of your child-husband.”

 

Ginny whirled around to face Hermione, her hair whipping her back. She got ready to yell again but Hermione shook her head in protest and mouthed something that Ron couldn’t make out. Whatever it was it made Ginny smile and she turned back to Ron with tears in her eyes.

 

“I…I’m going. I don’t want to be around for this but I warn you Ron, if my husband doesn’t go back to his normal self there’s going to be plenty of people after you for this.”

 

He nodded with satisfaction and removed Harry from his shoulders and cradled him in his arms.

 

“I’m so scared Gin. Come on Harry, don’t let the mean lady scare you.”

 

Ginny left with a loud crack and it was now Hermione, Ron and Harry. Hermione grinned at her husband and pulled her messy brown hair into a bun. Before she could say anything Harry started yelling and his tiny fist hit Ron’s arms. He wriggled in Ron’s grip and from shock Ron dropped him to the floor and the redheaded boy ran off screaming wildly out of the kitchen.

 

Ron sheepishly smiled at Hermione. “Three year olds…they have a lot of pent up energy and aggression. You don’t think this is how he really was, do you?”

 

She shook her head and laughed. Lightly, she tugged the sleeve of his orange t-shirt and said, “He’s your responsibility.”

 

Ron groaned.

 

-x-

 

Ron’s quiet and normal Sunday turned into a very loud and hectic one. Hermione caved in after he begged her (on his knees) to help him manage Harry. The two were actually _very_ afraid of what Ginny might do if her husband lost a limb _before_ he turned back into an adult.

 

They spent three hours chasing Harry around their house, one hour searching for the small boy who decided to play hide and seek (he hid under their dusty bed which was a place neither of them ever ventured) and then sporadically went on screaming tangents.

 

Seven hours later a very tired and very sleepy Ron and Hermione laid down on their bed, their crème duvet covered with red pasta sauce and spaghetti in places you couldn’t imagine, and sighed as Harry snuggled up between them.

 

His eyelids drooped and his small body relaxed as Hermione lightly patted his head.

 

“That was tiring,” said Ron. He yawned and let his hand reach over for Hermione’s hair. He tangled it with his fingers and smiled warmly at her.

 

She grinned. “Do you still want to have children?” There was a tone in her voice that Ron couldn’t quite place. She asked the question very quietly, her brown eyes staring into his blue ones.

 

This time he grinned and nodded his head with the little energy he had left. “With you? Of course. With Harry? Not so much. Remind me to never babysit James again when he gets a little older even if he is my godson. If he turns out to be anything like Harry, put me out of my misery.”

 

She chuckled but then frowned, a serious expression clouding her face. “Ron, be serious.”

 

“Hermione,” he said as seriously as he could, “of course I want to have kids with you. Imagine a little girl with your bushy hair and buck teeth _and_ your brains.”

 

Silently, she wrapped her fingers with his that were tangled in her hair and grinned. “And a little boy with your red hair and my brains.”

 

He rolled his eyes. “You’re supposed to say you want them to have my brains too but I’ll let that slide. Promise you won’t laugh at me?”

 

“Of course not.”

 

Ron shook his body on the bed trying to shimmy his wand out of his pocket. Once it was in his free hand he started to mumble a spell but paused after a second thought. He eyed Hermione again and blushed.

 

“Since Ginny and I are close in age and my brothers were off at Hogwarts,” he laughed with embarrassment as he got ready to confess his secret, “Mum used to make me do girly things with her and Gin. Well…I know it might seem stupid but…”

 

Now, he muttered his spell and a pink object floated in the air landing on Hermione’s lap. Her eyes watered as she grabbed the item with disbelief. “Booties?”

 

Ron grinned and brushed back a piece of her hair gently. “I knit them myself,” he said, referring to the pink baby booties that Hermione examined closely. They looked like they could fit a newborns tiny feet. “Aren’t they cute? Little feet actually fit in these. It’s baffling. I know we aren’t having kids now but someday our daughters feet will stay nice and toasty in them.”

 

“Ron, I—“

 

His face filled with worry and he cut her off quickly. “I know what you’re thinking, Hermione. Real men wear pink. I know I pulled pink off rather well dear but I don’t want to traumatize our son. I’ll make blue ones someday.”

 

She laughed and placed the booties down. “That’s not what I was going to say. Ron, listen.”

 

He grinned. “I’m listening.”

 

“I’m pregnant,” she said very slowly. Ron’s eyes opened wide from shock and he opened and closed his mouth trying to form words but he couldn’t. Hermione took this moment to laugh at her husband’s face.

 

“Hermione, I’m one hundred percent sure that’s not how it works. Now, I know I had the talk years ago with Mum and with McGonagall that one time but you can’t just magically say it—“

 

She raised her hand to interrupt him and gave him an odd look mulling over the ‘McGonagall’ and ‘talk’ idea in her head. “I’ve been trying to tell you for the past two weeks.”

 

He took a deep breath and then exhaled slowly. “Seriously? This isn’t a joke?” he asked with excitement.

 

“One hundred percent positive according to the Healers and the Muggle doctors.”

 

Ron beamed. If the Healers said so then they must have been having a baby (he was still unsure about the Muggle doctors). He carefully reached over and gave her a half hug since he didn’t want to wake up Harry. “We’re having a baby!” he mouthed to her.

 

“We’re having a baby,” she whispered back to him.

 

Ron removed himself from his wife and leaned his head back onto his pillow. “I’m going to be a father,” he whispered to himself. “A little person will call me Dad and bounce on my knee and…I hope they look just like you.”

 

“I hope so too.”

 

Ron grinned (really he couldn’t stop) and turned his head to Hermione. She was still smiling and was now relaxing her head on her pillow. Ron couldn’t help but notice that she was positively glowing but she always was in his eyes.

 

“Will you do something for me?” he asked.

 

“Of course.”

 

“Help me make another pair of booties but blue this time…incase we have a boy.”

 

“Sure.”

 

He waved his wand again and knitting needles and sky blue yarn found their way to his lap. Harry snored lightly between them as Ron passed an extra pair of knitting needles to his wife who was grinning madly.

 

“Just don’t take this the wrong way Hermione,” he whispered with a cheeky grin, “but those little hats you made for Dobby and the other house elves…they were pretty awful.”

 

She narrowed her eyes. “I—“

 

“Don’t take offense sweetheart,” he said and held up his needles for her to see. “Now,” he smirked, “watch and learn.”


End file.
